Don't Even
by L'Amazon Morte
Summary: Cancer, personal crisis, and conflict for Kerry, Elizabeth and Mark.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Don't Even

Author: L'AmazonMorte

Rating: PG 13

Set: Season eight, cannon through 'A River in Egypt', AU after that.

Primary characters: Elizabeth Corday, Mark Greene, Kerry Weaver

Disclaimers: Don't own ER or any characters from it

* * *

"Elizabeth," Mark asked when he heard her enter.

"Hi Mark. Sorry I'm in late. Is the baby asleep?" she asked and walked over to where he was sitting, and gave him a quick kiss as she pulled off her coat.

"Yes. And Rachel's spending the night with a friend."

"Oh, good for her."

"We need to talk," he said gravely.

"Okay. Right now? Or shall I call for dinner?"

"I think now would be best."

"Sure..." he was starting to worry her with his depressed affect.

"I... You should sit down."

"What's wrong, Mark?" Elizabeth asked quietly as she sat next to him on the couch and took his hand.

He took a deep breath, fortifying himself to say what he needed to, "I think... Well... I've been having symptoms."

"Symptoms? Symptoms of what, Mark?"

"I think the tumor might be back. I'm so sorry."

"Oh God, Mark…"

* * *

Kerry eased herself down into the armchair in her study and set her crutch against the coffee table. The light on her answering machine was blinking. Three messages. She sighed and got back up, crossed the room, limping heavily without her crutch, and pressed play.

"First message," the machine said in a droning electronic voice, "today at seven thirty PM."

Sandy's voice came on after that, "Kerry. Hi. Haven't heard from you yet. It's been a few days. Cooled off yet? Ready to thank me?"

"Cocky bitch," she mumbled and deleted the message. She didn't even want to think about what Sandy had done. Not without a few drinks in her system.

"Next message, today at eight oh five PM."

"It's Mark. I can't do my shift tomorrow night. I've checked, you're the only one who can cover."

She deleted that message too. It was just like him to assume she was free, and that she would work. No please, no thank you. She'd work the shift, but still... Inconsiderate bastard.

"Next message, today at eight thirty PM."

"Hi, this is Dr. Villeigo's office. Report on your pap smear's back. Give us a call at 888-4321 some time tomorrow after nine in the morning," a cheery secretary said quickly and hung up. She scribbled down the number and made a mental note to call eventually, then took two ibuprofen and went to bed.

* * *

I do so love reviews. Future chapters will be longer. 


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry this update is so long in coming. Won't even bother with an excuse. It will, however, be considerably longer than the first chapter.

She held his hand as they waited for the scan, and as soon as it was done, and as the neurologist and tech conferred, and as they finally gave an answer. "It's not tumor regrowth, Dr. Greene, you should be safe."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth asked quickly, hoping hse hadn't heard wrong.

"Yes."

After a moment, it sank in, "Thank god," Mark whispered and pulled Elizabeth into a tight hug. They'd dodged a bullet, the two of them. More than they wanted to think about. They were mostly numb for the drive home, from emotional overload - the good kind.

As they pulled into the driveway, Mark spoke, "Rachel's going to be home in an hour... What do you say the four of us go out for the night, celebrate?"

"She'll ask what's being celebrated. I see that conversation ending in a fight," that teenager was just so spoiled, so headstrong.

"She's a teenager. She won't notice."

Elizabeth paused for a moment, "You're right."

"There's some terrible animated looking thing in theaters. Ella will love it, Rachel can roll her eyes at the entire thing, we can ignore it," he raised his eyebrows and lowered his voice on the last few words.

She giggled, catching his meaning, "Oh Mark, you do realize we'll in public."

"Get your mind out of the gutter."

"I'll think about it."

---

The first two times she punched in the numbers, she got a busy signal. The third time, she was put on hold. Five minutes of elevator music later, she hung up, deciding there were many other, more productive ways to spend the time. That and she had to be ready for Mark's shift in... She glanced down at her watch... Fourty five minutes.

Clearly, the results could wait a while or she'd have them already.

Noone really talked to her at work if they didn't have to, which was fine, because on that particular day, she didn't want to deal with them either. Elizabeth's attitude had been contagious; between that and Sandy's best efforts to sabotage her, she doubted most of her coworkers would even tolerate being in the same room with her if they had another option. Better silence, though, than open hostility.

So in its drudgery, the shift dragged onward, basically without event until a very familiar firefighter showed up at 7:30 in the morning, just half an hour before the end of the shift Mark had dumped on her. Sandy was still in full gear, presumably having just ended her own workday.

"You didn't return my call," Sandy accused, standing in front of the lounge door, blocking Kerry's exit.

"You're not supposed to be back here," Kerry's voice was without emotion; she was dog tired and had cramps with no apparent cause, it'd been a long shift, an unpleasant one, and she didn't want to deal with someone else's shit.

"Answer the question."

"That wasn't a question," Kerry said, trying to brush past her former romantic envolvement. The shorter woman deliberately blocked her path. Kerry sighed and spoke again, "There's nothing left to say, Sandy. You showing up here just rpoves how little respect you have for me and for my decisions."

"No, maybe me showing up here means I have enough respect for you not to just walk away. I wanna keep trying. That's respect."

"Call it what you want. I'm not playing, and I'm not making a scene at work. I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave," her voice was icy.

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

Kerry's cheeks went scarlet, "Excuse me, but did it _ever_ occur to you that you've got absolutely _no business_ trying to determine the course of my life? Making my decisions for me! Now get out of here."

"Can we have coffee or something? Once you get off?"

"No. It's a bad idea," again, she tried sidestepping the tenacious brunette.

"Just coffee. I'll leave now. After, if you don't want to talk to me again, fine. I won't call, won't show up at work unless I'm bringing in a patient."

Kerry sighed, "Fine."

"Okay, just coffee. Starbucks. The one we went that first time. You're off at eight, right?"

"How did you--"

"Checked with the desk clerk. I'll see you there at eight thirty," Sandy said over her shoulder as she walked away.


End file.
